Mystical Alloys
by Lt. Commander Hanna Tucker
Summary: A series of random, mostly not-at-all-connected StrangeIron oneshots- some fluffy, some angsty, and some with a bit of both. Constructive criticism is appreciated! :) - (Stephen Strange/Tony Stark) {[[Please do not pester me about updates- the less I have to worry about, the better my writing will be. Thank you.]]}


A Spot of Tea

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Plot Summary: Stephen knows it won't last. So he tries to hang onto as much of it as he can, before it all fades away for good.

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**A/N: This is what happens when you sit down to write _Enterprise_ Mirrorverse fanfiction, and then a cute fluffy thought just **_**has**_** to worm it's way into your head and you can't help but write about said fluffy thought first.**** -_- Whatever. This is my first StrangeIron (yeah, I like that way of saying it better, sorry. Lol!) so please no flames! Also gets a little on the angsty side at the end, so please don't get mad at me for that either. I seem to have a somewhat unhealthy addiction to angst, so... yeah. Please enjoy nonetheless, and constructive criticism is appreciated!**

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"Oh, _come on,_ Strange! This is the the _third_ time today!"

Stephen rolled his eyes and turned around, walking into the sitting room with a mug of steaming hot tea in hand. "I'm sorry, did you say something?"

Stark rolled his eyes, languidly propping his bare feet up onto the coffee table- which on second thought may not have been the best idea, considering just how _old_ the damn thing was. The scientist lowered his feet back to the scruffy rug underneath. "Just saying, Doc. You drink too _waaaay_ much tea for your own good."

"Oh, and I suppose your twenty-four seven coffee sessions are any better?" Stephen calmly plopped down onto the couch beside Stark, their bodies meshing together easily as the sorcerer shuffled closer. Said sorcerer didn't really care about the fact that his elbow was no doubt digging into Stark's ribs, or how their legs had somehow tangled up when he had sat down. Stark himself didn't seem to mind, however. The genius slung his arm across Stephen's shoulders and pressed his lips gently on the other man's cheekbone.

"Is that a trick question?" Stark whispered into Stephen's ear, warm puffs of breath washing over the wizard's ear.

Stephen started to moan in pleasure at the sensation- then, out of both embarrassment and annoyance at the ridiculousness of the whole thing, quickly turned it into a groan of exasperation. "Just turn on the damn TV already, Stark."

"As you wish." Stark smirked as he spoke, an eyebrow quirking upwards ever so slightly.

Stephen groaned again, covering his eyes with a gloved hand in barely masked amusement. Peter really needed to stop making him and Stark watch those kinds of movies- otherwise the inventor was never going to shut up anytime soon. Not that Stephen would ever want him to. Although the former neurosurgeon would never admit it. Stark would never let him hear the end of it then. It was a little strange (pun fully intended), their relationship. Stephen had yet to put a name to it. He wasn't sure if he even_ wanted_ to name it at all. He certainly didn't want to label it right now, for fear of it becoming too real for either of them to handle. For fear of it all falling apart before it began, and for fear of Stephen being left to pick up the pieces alone.

Stephen swallowed hard and tilted his head to rest on Stark's chest, eyes locked onto whatever lame TV show was playing on the channel at the moment. After a moment, he tangled his fingers with Stark's, not a single word leaving his lips.

_Best enjoy it while it lasts,_ Stephen told himself, closing his eyes and savouring the moment. Savouring the warmth radiating from Stark's body and savouring the soft touch that came with it. The gentle scent of whatever roast Stark drank today, the scent of the peppermint tea wafting up from Stephen's mug. And the chilliness of the Sanctum cutting in through Stephen's robes now and then, as if warning him that this was only temporary. That someday Stark would move on and find someone else.

And then Stephen would be all alone again.

_Enjoy it while it lasts._


End file.
